


Cinema Verité

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Kidfic, M/M, Original Male Child Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a single father whose son has just found out that his birth father is major film star Aidan Turner and his friends have a plan to bring everyone together in an attempt to find closure -- but closure isn't what Dean's after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Next up, _The Pauper’s Rose_ starring Aidan Turner...”

Dean glances over from where he’s stirring the batter for cookies, wrinkling his nose. “Cal, turn it off,” he says, not in the mood to watch an old film – and not _this_ old film in particular. Dinner’s about to be on the table and he doesn’t need an old slide into nostalgia, especially not now. 

“Why?” Cal asks, but he does as he’s told, heading into the room and sitting down in the stool across from Dean. “He’s got the same last name as I do! He’s one of my favourite actors!” he enthuses. At nine, Cal’s favourite actor changes by the week, but there does seem to be a consistent loyalty to those who have his last name.

Dean presses his lips together tightly. There’s no reason to drag Cal through the truth of the matter, even though he knows he’ll have to face it one day.

“Cookies, hey?” Dean reminds him, tipping the bowl over to him so he stops thinking about Aidan Turner. 

Not that he ever can, given that every day he sees Aidan Turner in Cal’s eyes, hair, and face. It’s luck that has him resembling his father so incredibly, but Aidan had made it very clear all those years ago that he couldn’t do this. Dean could. Dean is. And he’s never regretted his decision. He’s been a father for nine years and while he’s had to take on a lot more work, it’s been rewarding through and through. Bit parts in shows gave way to writing articles, selling paintings, and photographs to magazines. He’s managed to make a good life for himself here in Auckland and has provided for Cal.

There's dinner to make, the end of school term to worry about, and Dean's got to figure out something to do over the summer. Money isn't really an issue, but Dean gets bored all-too-quickly when he's at home. He wants something that'll let him see Cal as much as possible, at the same time.

“Dad!” Cal calls out, looking up from his mobile. “Dad, Dad, _look_!”

Dean widens his eyes, peeking over at the phone to see an article about a new film being released soon. “It’s a fantasy film, Dad, and Aidan’s got a small part in it. He’ll be coming here to New Zealand! We could go see the set and maybe we'll get to see Aidan, too!” he says, yanking at Dean’s sleeve. “Please! Please, can I audition to be an extra?”

“One thing at a time,” Dean advises gently. “Dinner, first. And don’t forget to eat your greens or there’s no going to be an extra.” Well, at least he appears to have ammunition for getting Cal to do the things he wants to. 

They manage to make it through dinner and while Cal is cleaning up, Dean takes his phone into the next room, closing the sliding door behind him as he calls up Luke, hoping that his friend will have some decent advice.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” is how Dean starts the conversation.

“Deano,” Luke drawls. “That’s not a very nice way to say hello.”

“You’re supposed to be the one who warns me about all impending productions coming into the country. You’re the casting agent, you should know that Aidan got a part in something filming here! He’s going to _be here_.” And Dean hasn’t spoken to Aidan apart from emails every few weeks to check in, cheques sent in the mail, and the once-yearly Skype date on Dean’s birthday. “Cal’s the one who showed me and now he’s got his heart set on a role in this new film about...”

“Clockwork dragons,” Luke says. “Aidan’s got a small role, he should only be here for two weeks and I didn’t want you to obsess. You do that.”

“Luke Evans, you bastard,” he growls. “I do not.”

“Right,” Luke drawls. “So, that time Aidan came out to Wellington for a premiere and you took Cal camping into the middle of nowhere so absolutely no one could reach you. That wasn’t obsessing over a worst possible scenario?”

“We hadn’t had a trip in ages.”

“I get it, Dean,” Luke promises. “Not only is he your ex, but he’s the father of your child who you’re raising even though it’s a constant reminder of Aidan’s past before you. I’m pretty sure when they write a book about complicated father-son relationships, your story will be a whole chapter. You know you’re going to have to tell Cal.”

“I don’t have to tell my son anything!”

“Right,” Luke says. “Dean, he already gets pissed off when you withhold information from him about your articles because he thinks it means you're trying to withhold your career from him. What do you think he’s going to say when he finds out you’ve been keeping his birth father’s identity a secret?”

“He knows he’s adopted, what does it matter that his father is...”

“That my father is what, Dad?”

Dean turns, finding Cal standing in the doorway. “Cal...”

“The timer is going off, oven’s ready to bake the cookies,” he says, staring up at Dean with a cross look on his face, mixed between indignation and grief. “Dad, what are you talking about?”

“Luke,” Dean says. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

“You’re in deep shit now, O’Gorman,” Luke says and Dean’s not going to forgive his friend for the way he’s chuckling as he hangs up. 

Dean takes a deep breath and pockets his phone. “You know how we always said we’d talk about your birth parents when you were older?” he says. “Much, much older. I was thinking thirty or forty or...”

“Dad!” Cal protests sharply. 

“It’s a complicated story, Cal,” Dean warns, crossing the distance between them and kneeling down in front of his son so that he’s the one with the height disparity working against him. “And if I tell you, you might be mad at your parents. You might be mad at me. You might never look at things the same way and you’re only nine. I wanted to wait until you were older. I didn’t want to burden you with the truth now.”

“I want to know,” Cal pleads. “Please, Dad.”

Dean sighs. “Okay, kid. Better get those cookies in the oven, though. We’re going to need them.”

* * *

_“Never think I’m going to get tired of this,” says Aidan, sprawled over Dean with a lazy grin on his lips. “Shit, you’re gorgeous like this.” He’s straddling Dean comfortably while Dean runs his fingers through Aidan’s hair, indulging in the base pleasure he gets every time one of Aidan’s curls winds around Dean’s finger._

_They kiss, deeply, but it’s interrupted by the doorbell._

_“Shit,” Dean says. “It’s eleven at night. You expecting someone?”_

_“No. You?”_

_Dean shakes his head. “Should we get it?”_

_“I’ll die of intrigue if we don’t...”_

* * *

If only they hadn’t answered the door, thinks Dean. Except then his life wouldn’t be what it is now and he couldn’t live with the thought of a life different from this one. He takes several calming breaths and digs out his phone to send emergency ‘drinks needed’ to Richard, Luke, and Graham for after this talk and gets a babysitter in Emmett before he heads out to talk to Cal about the truth he’s been putting off for so long.

“You look mad,” Cal says worriedly.

“I’m not,” Dean says, taking the seat next to Cal. “I’m worried,” he admits honestly. They’ve been honest with each other. “I’m worried you’re going to think your father is a bad person because of the choices he made. First of all, I’ve met your mother exactly once and that was the night she showed up on your father’s doorstep with you. She didn’t want to keep the baby and was getting ready to adopt, but wanted to see if he wanted to keep you.”

“But he didn’t,” Cal says. “Because I’m here with you.”

“He was eighteen, Cal,” Dean says gently. “He wasn’t ready to be a father.”

“You were nineteen,” Cal replies stubbornly, his face twisting up in consternation and the indignation is heavy in his tone. Dean’s not surprised the emotions are coming out early in this conversation, but he genuinely wishes they could stay hidden for a little while longer. “You were nineteen and you were ready!”

“I’ve always wanted kids,” Dean says, wrapping his arm around Cal’s shoulder to bring him in tight. “Hey,” he whispers. “The conclusion of this story stays the same. I love you and you’re my son, no matter who your birth parents are. You got that?”

Cal nods, even if his eyes are cloudy with tears as he does.

“I met your father when I was sixteen and he was fifteen. I was in London doing some bit parts in plays and movies, back when I acted. We met on a television programme. We hit it off and we started seeing each other. It was off and on until a couple years in, when we got serious. We bought a place together and his career was really starting to take off...”

The epiphany is beginning to hit, Dean can tell.

He takes a deep breath. “Aidan was...is...amazing. I love him, deeply so, but he wasn’t ready to have a child,” Dean says. “And so that night when your mother came to give you up, the product of the last time Aidan and I were off, he panicked and admitted he couldn’t do it. He tried to convince me that we could have you adopted to a loving family, but I saw a beautiful little boy who needed love and I was nineteen and ready to give it. It was Aidan’s son. You have his eyes,” Dean says, cradling Cal’s cheek. “So I adopted you, officially.”

“My dad is Aidan Turner. The movie star?”

“He was only in a few commercials and a few television shows when we were together,” Dean says. “Yeah, your Dad is Aidan Turner. He sends us money to support you, he asks about you, but that night...”

“Did he dump you because of me?”

Dean stays silent. It’s the question he wanted to avoid.

“Cal...”

“No,” Cal interrupts hotly. “You said we have to be honest, so be honest with me. Did he dump you because you kept me.”

“He wasn’t ready to be a father and I was,” Dean says, hating that hurt look on Cal’s face. “We parted ways, but it was mutual. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, Cal, but he still loves you. He’s just not ready to be in your life like that, which means he can’t be in mine.”

Cal’s face falls. “But that means you’ve been alone, too. You never date anyone more than a few weeks. I’m the reason you’re alone,” he says, voice small.

“No, Cal. You’re the reason I’ll _never_ be alone,” Dean says, hugging him tight. “Come on, let’s get those cookies baking. Emmett’s coming over later to watch you for a bit and you know how many he can eat in one sitting. We have to be prepared.” 

The cookies help slightly, but there’s still that unsure expression lingering on Cal’s face. Dean knows, reasonably, that this isn’t going to be automatically fixed, but he really, really wishes that it could be. This is something that’s in their lives now, but Dean imagines that at least now he won’t have to endure Cal’s daily questions about whether he can be an extra in the new film. 

Richard seems eager to dissuade him of that hope.

“I think he’s still going to be fairly eager,” he says, handing out beers to the lads. “I don’t think it’ll be fannish awe, though.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, settling back into their usual booth. The four of them drink regularly at O’Toole’s, a little Irish pub down the street from Dean’s flat. “He just found out that his birth father basically said he couldn’t handle the responsibility of caring for a child.”

“And you think he’s going to let that go?” Luke points out. 

“They’re right,” Graham advocates, sitting down across from Dean. “I’d start keeping an eye out for pointy objects. If your young Cal is anything like you were in the months after you and Aidan split ways, there’s going to be a lot of destroyed possessions and a real tilt towards the dramatic.”

“I wasn’t that bad...!”

Richard and Graham give him a sharp look.

“Okay, so, I was nineteen and emotional and suddenly a father and yes, I have you three to thank for keeping me steady and managing to help me look after Cal. It’s why you’re Uncle Richard and Uncle Luke and Uncle Graham,” he says, giving each of them a look of profuse thanks. “He’s nine, though. He’ll be mad and upset, but I’m hoping that he’ll let it go.”

“I think he’s going to try and track Aidan down and give him a piece of his mind,” Graham says. “It’s what I’d do.”

“You’re also an incredibly vengeful adult,” Dean points out.

“You’re right,” Graham replies, as if he’s remembering this for the first time. “And Aidan is flying in for the first time in years. Boys,” he says to Luke and Richard. “How do you feel about a little roadtrip to a film set. Luke, you’re casting for the extras, aren’t you? And Richard, they’re going to need editing effects for a fantasy flick. And of course, action...”

“No,” Dean says.

“We are looking for location scouts, Dean,” Luke says. “And you were saying you could use a job.”

“No!”

“I have been bored, lately,” Graham says. “Local shows don’t need stunts as much as big films do and they’ve been begging me to take this one on. I said no when I found out Aidan’s name was attached to it, but now that Cal knows about his father, I think the lot of us could use a project and Cal deserves to meet his father and say whatever it is he wants to say.”

“Am I invisible?” Dean protests. “ _No!_ ”

“So it’s settled,” Luke says brightly, lifting his glass in cheers. “We’re signed on!”

Dean slumps into his seat. “Fuck,” he ekes out. “I hate you all.”

Richard claps Dean on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there every step of the way.”

“That’s partially what I’m afraid of.”

And like that, it’s set and Dean’s life has swerved away from the status quo in the blink of an eye.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t believe we’re going to the film set!” Cal says, hauling out his suitcase. It’s stuffed to the brim and then some, clothes peeking out from some of the zippers. Dean takes one look at it from behind his reading glasses, unable to stop his eyes from bugging out. “What?” Cal asks defensively, staring at him. “I _need_ it all.”

“We’re going for two weeks.”

“Uncle Luke says maybe more,” Cal argues. “And it’s summer break, Dad! Why can’t we stay longer!” Dean bites back a curse about what _Uncle Luke_ has to say about the job. “Besides, it’s going to be amazing! I packed the books the movie’s based on. Did you know Aidan’s playing one of the dragon riders? It’s so cool,” he breathes.

Well, it looks like the anger has receded long enough for Aidan to be cool again. It’s a daily swing, at this point, and Cal goes from righteously pissed to completely awed that his father is a multi-millionaire.

Dean’s drawn away from that thought by what Cal’s said. “I thought he was only doing a guest role, something that shoots for two weeks?”

Cal shakes his head, his nose already back in a book. There’s no chance Dean will get an answer from him, not unless the author’s managed to slip in a phrase ‘look up and answer your father, already’ into the text. Dean does the next best thing when it comes to answers. He picks up his phone and calls Luke.

“Evans,” he answers.

“What’s this about Aidan having a major role in the film?”

There’s nothing but silence at the other end of the line and Dean learned a very long time ago that when Luke is guilty, he clutches silence like it’ll defend him from all the accusations and the anger and the irritation. Frankly, Dean fucking hates it. “...Listen, Dean.”

“Oh, no, don’t you ‘listen’ me. Explain,” Dean insists.

“He was doing a smaller role, but someone pulled out for one of the four main roles and...”

“And you cast Aidan,” Dean says, laughing darkly. “Christ, Luke.”

“Look, he’s talented. So are you, incidentally, not that you’ve acted in over a decade,” Luke points out, which is one of the old standbys when it comes to their conversations. Inevitably, it always comes back to Aidan, Dean’s career choices, and the fact that Luke thinks Dean abandoned his career when he didn’t have to. “I hired him for Rook, sue me,” he says. “It’s not as if you two will run into each other too much and I thought the great Christmas Caper of 2011 meant that the two of you are civil, now. You even managed to meet his new girlfriend without throwing champagne in her face.”

“They’re broken up, now,” Dean says, feeling echoes of a panic he thought he’d let go of ages ago.

It’s almost safer when Aidan is seeing someone else. With every passing year, Aidan grows more mature, calmer, and more _beautiful_ by far. He becomes something that Dean genuinely could see himself being with forever and he’s fairly sure it’s not one-sided because he feels sparks whenever they talk. If Aidan is taken, those sparks aren’t dangerous.

When he’s not, they’re enough to start a blaze.

“I did not know about the breakup,” Luke finally says. “You’re still on, though, right? I’ve got the director in a hype that you’re coming to help him out. People love the shots you take of locations. You’re like a muse,” he praises.

“Enough buttering me up. Cal’s packed, there’s no way I could back out now,” Dean says wryly. “Richard and Graham will be picking us up soon to go to the airport and we’ll see you in a few days. Do not interfere in my relationship with Aidan.”

Silence.

“Evans!” Dean growls. “Say it.”

“Fine,” Luke sighs. “I will not personally interfere with your non-relationship with the father of your child.”

“When you say it like that, I sound like I belong in some kind of soap opera,” he complains. 

“I can’t change reality, dear,” Luke hums the words out, serenely. “What is, is.” 

And then he hangs up before Dean can get another word in edgewise. He sighs and presses his cell phone to his forehead, smacking it there again and again as he thinks about the now-months ahead of him with the most contact he’s had with Aidan in years. 

“Dad?” Cal calls, poking his head in the doorway. “Are you almost ready? Uncle Richard called and said he’s going to pick us up in twenty minutes!” He’s already lugging his suitcase with a hand, his curls frizzing over his forehead. “He sent along a picture of where we’re going to be staying! They got a house, it’s so cool, Dad,” he enthuses. If he goes on any longer about how _cool_ everything is, Dean’s in danger of catching that enthusiasm.

“Let me get my things together and double check the cameras,” Dean says. 

He pries off his reading glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. At twenty-eight, he has no right to feel as old as he does, but somehow, it’s like he’s lived three lifetimes in the short span of barely one and he feels like that has a lot to do with the fact that he’s still massively in love with an international movie star whose son he’s raising.

His life sure does go straight for the complications.

He protects and packs the remainder of the cameras, setting their bags on the front stoop as he sits down beside Cal, waiting around for Richard.

This whole time, things have been moving so quickly that Dean hasn’t had the chance to really sit down and talk to Cal. “Hey,” he says, nudging his son with his shoulder lightly. “This whole thing, you’re coping with it pretty well. You sure everything’s okay?”

Cal fiddles with his point and shoot camera and if Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s because he doesn’t want to look at him. “I’m mad that you lied to me,” he says quietly. “Except, maybe not? You told me I was adopted a long time ago, you didn’t lie about that...and it’s not like Aidan’s ever showed up at the door asking to be in my life. Or yours.”

“No,” Dean agrees, that pang of grief hitting him hard. “He hasn’t.”

“So, I guess I’m okay,” Cal says. “Plus, being on a film set is going to be _so_ cool,” he enthuses. He cranes his head up to look at Dean. “Are you gonna be okay?”

It’s rich, really, that his son is asking him questions that Dean doesn’t actually know the answer to. “What, with this job? I mean, I haven’t done it in over a year, but...”

“No, Dad,” Cal huffs impatiently. “Are you gonna be okay seeing Aidan?”

Dean tracks back through their history and tries to remember how much he might have let on about Cal’s birth father and any of the emotions that might have been lingering around as a result of no closure and the fact that Aidan is everywhere – magazines, billboards, television, movies. He doesn’t know how much he’s said, but his Cal is a clever one and maybe he might have picked up on the fact that Dean’s not over Aidan. If nothing else, the sheer lack of serious relationships might have something to do with that.

“It’s going to be hard,” Dean admits. “When Aidan and I split up, we both knew it was for the best, but it still hurt. He’s had his career and a few famous relationships and I’ve had amazing friends, good work, and you,” he says. “And Cal? I wouldn’t trade that for anything,” he swears. “Besides, I would’ve been a crap actor if I kept going. You should’ve seen the stuff I put myself in.”

And that? That was a tactical error.

“Does Uncle Luke have the tapes still?”

“Nope,” Dean says quickly (too quickly), shaking his head vehemently. “Nope, they all burned down in a great big multi-continental fire, wouldn’t you know, and all the digital drives were wiped clean by aliens.”

“Dad,” Cal says, rolling his eyes.

“They’re that bad,” he promises.

“No, they’re worse,” Richard pipes up, leaning against the convertible with a rueful smile on his face. “However, love your father as I do, I’ve kept a collection of all the drivel he’s lent his name to. When you’re a little older, we’ll watch. They’re not exactly appropriate for young eyes. He loved to show off his nudity, your father.”

“Ew,” says Cal.

“Yeah, I second that,” Dean says. “C’mon, let’s get this show on the road!”

While Cal is helping Graham to load the bags into the trunk of the car, Richard drifts to Dean’s side. “Are you ready for this?”

“Two months, at least, with my ex-boyfriend whom I’m fairly sure I still love...”

“Piece of piss,” Richard dryly remarks.

“Yeah,” Dean draws out the word. “Piece of piss.”

*

When they arrive on set, it’s chaos.

Dean welcomes it with open arms. Cal’s been sent to the house they’re renting with Graham and Richard and Dean’s come straight to the set to meet with the other location people and to introduce himself to old friends he hasn’t seen in ages. Working with New Zealand productions is nice in that way that you’re guaranteed to know a face or two, here and there, and this is no different. He’s already seen a script supervisor he worked with once by the name of Adam and one of the trainers, Jed, used to work with Dean at the gym.

Chaos is good. It’s enough to distract Dean from the dread of what’s coming next.

Except that ‘next’ can’t be put off forever and inevitably Dean comes to a stop outside of Aidan’s trailer, knocking lightly on the door.

“I’m not hungry, thanks! I don’t need a tea,” Aidan rambles from behind the door, erroneously thinking Dean must be craft services or his PA. 

This is his last chance. He could take off right now and pretend he was never here, except that he’s signed onto this project officially and Cal’s probably already made a home for himself in the rental. If this is going to happen without being immensely and intensely awkward, then Dean needs to have this conversation.

He knocks again.

“Hold on, hold on, I’m naked,” Aidan says. 

“There was a time I’d say I don’t mind that at all,” Dean can’t help replying. He leans his temple against the outer shell of the door, smiling fondly when Aidan yanks the door open, wearing nothing but a towel slung around his hips. 

There are water droplets cascading down Aidan’s bare skin, reflecting in the sunlight, and his hair is falling into his eyes. The moment he sees Dean, he lights up like Dean’s personally brought the sun to his doorstep and hauls him inside with a massive hug. “You could’ve given a man some warning you were coming!” Aidan enthuses, brushing his hair off his forehead. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Working,” Dean admits. “Luke said they needed people working locations.”

“Here I thought maybe you were going to be in the flick,” Aidan says, gesturing for Dean to come inside. “Christ, look at you, you look amazing! You been out to the beach? You’re tan!” he says, gesturing to Dean’s face. And, as if the first hug wasn’t enough, he ducks in for a second. This time, he lingers in Dean’s personal space, breathing him in. “Missed you,” he exhales, before Dean can get another word in edgewise.

Dean’s selfish. He soaks up all those touches and the inherently sexy smell of Aidan’s smell that’ll now be pressed to his body. “I came to give you fair warning,” he admits. “I’m here, so’s the cavalry. And so is Cal.”

Worry flickers over Aidan’s face. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? I can send the PA for tea...”

“Aidan, I’m not staying long,” Dean interrupts. “I came here to tell you that Cal’s going to be here for the summer, same as I’m going to be here for the summer. We’re not expecting you to suddenly show up and be a father or a presence in his life, but I’d be an arse if I didn’t at least show up and give you fair warning that we’re here,” he says. “He’s going to be an extra,” he says proudly.

“Following in your footsteps, is he?” Aidan says, his fingers busy fumbling with coffee cups. “Thanks for the warning, Deano,” he says. “You uh, you’re here all summer too, yeah?”

“All summer long,” he agrees. “When I’m not up in the helicopter taking shots of landscapes.”

Aidan’s making a lot of noise in that small kitchen of his – washing cups in a small sink – and moving them around in a hurry. “Good,” he says, in a strange tone of voice that Dean can’t read. It’s been ten years since they regularly spent time together and Dean’s lost his ability to read Aidan’s expressions and his tones of voice. “Good,” he says again, more hushed this time.

Dean gives Aidan a curious look. “Put some clothes on, you naked bastard.”

“You forgot gorgeous,” Aidan says slyly. 

“Fine,” Dean allows. “ _Gorgeous_.” Heart stuck in his throat, he leans to press a goodbye kiss to Aidan’s cheek before letting himself out. Only when he’s in the fresh air does he get a chance to breathe again, feeling madly and utterly and desperately out of his depths. 

_Good_ , Aidan had said.

Except, what does ‘good’ mean?

When Dean’s clear of the talent’s trailers, he digs out his phone and puts a call in to Luke. “If I haven’t said it already today, I greatly dislike you,” is all he has to say. His skin is still flushed, his blood is thrumming, and he’s half-hard – all from that momentary encounter with Aidan. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I’ve had suspicions,” Luke agrees. “Now, get to casting. I need a massive favour from you.”

And that doesn’t bode well at _all_.


	3. Chapter 3

Luke’s ‘favour’ turns out to be that they need profile shots done on each of the main actors and that the department who normally does this is out helping scout on location. “You did only just arrive; we’re sharing resources,” Luke says, guiding him inside. “What were you up to, anyhow? Is Cal settled in at the house?”

“I’m sure Richard’s entertaining him with stories of the wonder of movie magic,” Dean drawls, hauling out his equipment. “Who’s running the camera while we do this?”

Luke introduces Dean to the team before abandoning him on his own, rushing off to where there’s another emergency that apparently needs his focused attention. Dean blows a long breath out, trying to rid himself of his stress. He reminds himself that he actively chose to do this and that it’s not exactly a hardship to take pictures when someone else is getting stills from a video shot, as well. Besides, it’s not a sprawling cast, so this will take a few hours at best.

Of course, Aidan being one of the main cast, it does make it inevitable for him to appear in costume.

“What d’you think?” Aidan asks, twirling and giving Dean a good look at the vambrances he’s wearing – and the copper extensions that ride over his fingers – and the hooded leather cloak that makes him look like a gorgeous ruffian assassin. “It’s a bit better fare than the first few roles I had.”

“I’ll say,” Dean says, reminding himself that he’s not there to be distracted by how good Aidan looks – and is that _eyeliner_? He’s there to do a job, even if this isn’t exactly in his job description. “Who are you playing, again?”

“Rook. He’s got a bit of an attitude.”

“Perfect for you, then. What with your resting face,” Dean teases, his finger quick on the button as he snaps as many shots as he can. He relaxes when they send the actor off set and turns back to Aidan, reaching over to fix the scarf hanging around Aidan’s neck, fingers stilling when he realises what he’s doing. “Listen,” he manages to get out. “You want to come around for dinner one night? I’d love for Cal to properly meet you and I’m sure Richard and Graham want to see you.”

“What? Not Luke?” Aidan jokes.

“You know Luke, he hates your guts for breaking my heart,” Dean drawls and as much as he makes it sound like a joke, it’s only half of one. “I’ll make sure Luke doesn’t throw any drinks in your face. Besides, he cast you for this, so he can’t hate you that much anymore, right?”

“Unless this is one big massive revenge scheme,” Aidan points out.

Funny, because Dean was beginning to think that it’s one big romantic comedy plot at work. Still, his paranoid apprehensions still aren’t reason enough to keep Aidan from seeing Cal face-to-face for the first time in years. “I think you’re up,” Dean says, tapping Aidan’s shoulder when the director starts frantically waving him over. 

Dean takes shot after shot of Aidan, not bothering to pay much mind to the fact that there are three times as many photographs of Aidan in costume as compared to the rest of the cast. He’s aware that he’s blatantly head over heels for him, but the evidence really isn’t going to help his case when the others ask if it’s affecting him.

He gets lost after that, but inevitably finds his way up to the trailer they’re using for all the location people. It’s a motley bunch and Dean’s happy to have a home, if only temporarily. They take him out for a coffee and he gets a paper schedule in hand that tells him how busy he’s going to be over the next few weeks.

“Cal?” Dean calls out when he gets home that night, ducking his head to get his messenger bag off. “Buddy?”

“In here, Dad!” he summons excitedly.

Dean opens his mouth to ask what prop Graham must’ve stolen for his son when he walks into the dining room to find Cal in the middle of trying to throw rolls across the table – aimed right for Aidan’s mouth. Luke’s in the kitchen with Richard and Graham is shamelessly cheering the two children on.

He takes a moment to take in the sight before he heads straight for the kitchen.

“You know,” he says wryly. “They have these incredible things called text messages,” he informs Luke, slugging Richard in the shoulder _hard_ while poking a finger of warning into Luke’s face that he’ll be getting one later. “Warn a man, would you?”

Luke hands over a glass of red. “And miss the look on your face when you walked in? Never.” 

Richard gives Dean a light push. “Go on,” he encourages. “You’ve only been waiting for this moment for the last ten years of your life. God only knows you shouldn’t waste it in the kitchen talking to the old men.”

“Old?” Luke retorts. “I’ll have you know, I am...”

Dean rolls his eyes and wanders out before he gets caught in a downward spiral of flirting. He takes his seat beside Cal at the table, rubbing his hands through Cal’s hair and making a god-awful mess of all of it as he grins warmly. “Putting him in his place, I hope?”

“Yeah,” Cal says.

“He’s bloodthirsty!” Aidan mock-complains, extending a hand. “Look at this, look at that, your son’s all but drawn blood.”

Dean’s struck by the significance of that. _Your son_. Not ours. Aidan might be here for dinner, but he’s not encroaching on territory that doesn’t belong to him. Dean’s not sure if it’s because he’s extremely lonely or if the gesture really is that wonderful, but he finds himself genuinely touched.

Cal wriggles his way out of Dean’s touch. “Aidan was saying he might sneak me onto set so I can watch them film!”

“He said that, did he?”

Aidan holds up both hands. “If it’s not okay with Dad, it’s not okay.”

“Take the free babysitting, would you?” Graham pipes up. It actually startles Dean. He’d forgotten about the other man’s presence completely until he’d spoken. It’s like the world had utterly narrowed to him, his son, and his son’s biological father – conveniently being played by the handsome bloke Dean’s still not over.

He drains back the glass of wine, realizing he needs a whole lot more to drink.

Dean’s grateful for the chaos of dinner. There are too many voices, dishes clanging against the chafing plates, and everyone only shuts up when the food is served and they’re all too busy eating to actually say anything. Luke’s responsible for dessert and Dean takes the opportunity of a lulled conversation to escape and start doing the dishes, since he wasn’t around to help pitch in with dinner.

What he doesn’t expect is Aidan at his side, greeting him with a light hipcheck.

“I’m surprised you haven’t taken off for the hills, yet,” Dean says. “You never used to like drinking with the blokes, way back when.”

“They grew up a tad,” Aidan admits, leaning across Dean to grab a dishrag. “I’ll dry.”

They work in quiet tandem for a time, the tension building incrementally until it’s almost too much to bear. “So, I heard about your relationship,” Dean says, when the silence actually becomes so oppressive that he swears it might choke him. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“What can you do? Half the time, I’m not even sure whether I actually like a person or whether I’ve successfully tricked myself into thinking so,” Aidan rambles. “It’s not like it was with you, y’know? I barely have any time to myself. I see the people I see on set and there’s a whole other personality involved in that, most of the time. Fuck if I know. Maybe I’m too talented for my own good,” he jokes brightly.

Through the opened wall to the dining room, they have a clear view to the table – and to Cal.

“He’s a good kid. I always got the sense in the few calls we’ve had, but this is like really knowing, you know?”

“Amazing,” Dean retorts wryly. “Isn’t it? How meeting someone can actually translate to knowing what their personality is like.”

“Wanker.”

“Arse,” Dean replies lovingly. 

Aidan drinks about two full glasses in the time it takes them to tidy up the remainder of the dishes. Their conversation slides towards the inconsequential. They catch up and Aidan asks questions about what Cal likes now while Dean does his best to try and hint around if Aidan’s interested in anyone right now.

By the time the others have noticed they’re lingering, Aidan’s well into another glass of wine. 

“Shit,” he says, blinking as if surprised when the bottom of his glass is all he finds instead of more red. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to lend out your couch to a needy actor?”

Right up until this moment, Dean would’ve sworn that no one else gave a damn about their conversation. Now? It’s like three grown men and a child have all wandered into the kitchen to overhear Dean’s answer. “Honestly, it’s not even my place, not really,” Dean protests, trying to wiggle himself out of having to give an answer. “Luke pays the rent.”

“Luke does what now?” he asks, as if he hasn’t been on the other side of the wall listening to every word. 

Dean grasps the dishtowel from Aidan’s hands to dry off his wet fingers, refraining from flicking droplets right at Luke’s face. “He’s had a tad too much to drink,” Dean says, nodding in Aidan’s direction and hoping he’s not speaking so loud that Cal can overhear. “Is he okay to crash the couch tonight?”

“Is he?” Luke echoes lasciviously.

“Um,” Aidan says, not getting the lewd undertones. “Yes?”

“But is he?” Luke asks again, this time in Dean’s direction.

“It’s the couch,” Dean says. “It’s fine.”

* * *

It’s not fine.

It’s completely not fine.

It’s one in the morning, Dean has an appointment at eight and he can’t sleep. He tosses, he turns, he throws his pillows around, he keeps rotating as if that will bring him some solace. He thinks about his schedule, he conjugates verbs in French, he counts sheep, but his thoughts always lead him back to the same traitorous place.

He’s thinking about how Aidan’s sleeping on the couch outside in nothing but a pair of loose boxers.

Even the sheep have gotten in on it. “ _Quelle bonne home_ ,” they trill.

Dean might not be sleeping, but he’s pretty fucking exhausted if the sheep in his head have become French. He rubs at his hair and grabs at it, deciding that if bed is going to be his enemy, then he will abandon his post. He trudges to his feet and checks in on Cal the next room over, shuffling to the bathroom to piss before he heads back to bed. Maybe this time he can count as high as he can get in German.

“Dean!” 

Or he can stop in his tracks because Aidan is hissing at him.

Dean stops in his tracks. He curls his bare toes into the horrid shag carpeting in the hallway and ignores every sensible bone in his body telling him to go right back to bed. Dean’s never been the sort of person who listened to sense. He gives in and walks towards the man (the ex, the love of his heart and life) on the couch.

“How do you sleep on this thing?” Aidan whispers, brows contorting in horror. “It’s the worst!”

“I have a bed,” Dean says.

And then regrets it.

He knows the minute the idea occurs to Aidan. He’s always worn his heart conveniently right on his sleeve, so the second the idea takes heart in Aidan’s being, Dean knows. It doesn’t even matter that they’re so in synch (which they are), he’d have known from a single look into Aidan’s warm eyes.

“Listen...”

“We shouldn’t...”

“I mean, you know me, I’m a cuddler...”

“Aid...”

“...but for real, the makeup artists will slay me if I don’t get some sleep.”

He follows up this impassioned plea with the widest puppy-dog eyes that Dean’s seen in his life. With his hands clasped together before him, he makes a picture of a perfectly pathetic person and Dean’s utterly lost when it comes to saying no to that face.

He sighs.

“If you drool on me, I’m well within my rights to kick you out,” Dean says, acceptance by way of bitching – as is his wont. He inhales sharply and makes an about-turn to head back to bed, Aidan on his heels, and the prospect of a sleepless night ahead of him.

He can do this, right?

House full of blokes, son next door, ex-boyfriend in the same bed, and a job to be done in the morning.

Piece of cake.


	4. Chapter 4

When Dean wakes up in the morning, his mouth has been invaded. It’s hardly like the dreams he’s been in the middle of where Aidan rolls over in the middle of the night and kisses him the way they used to kiss under the covers, trying to keep the world out. No, this time, his mouth is being oppressed by the frizz-infested curls of Aidan’s hair.

He lets out a muffled cry of surprise, which only makes him choke a little bit more.

Over Aidan’s shoulder, the clock reads seven in the morning – still fifteen minutes before the alarm goes off – but he’s awake for the day. And now comes the first difficult decision of his morning – does he move and begin the routine or does he stay and bask in the closeness with Aidan he hasn’t had in ages.

The decision is made for him when the door to the bedroom is pulled open, the hinges creaking accusatorily. 

“Dad,” Cal whispers, sneaking in. “You have to come outside and see, they’re bringing in some of the drag...” he trails off, staring at Dean and Aidan in bed. Dean’s hyper-aware of his son’s reactions and he sits there, frozen in shock, while Cal cycles through a baker’s dozen of emotions at once, but the one he lands on looks a lot like anger.

“Is it morning already?” Aidan grumbles sleepily.

Cal turns on his heel and _runs_ from the bedroom. “Fuck,” Dean says, struggling to unwind himself from the tight hold of the bedsheets. “Fuck,” he growls again, panic and frustration mingling together to practically choke him. He struggles to get up and out of bed, which forces him to press a palm to Aidan’s chest. 

“What?” Aidan asks, still too asleep to truly understand what’s going on.

“Cal.” It takes no more than that for Aidan to understand. Dean vaults out of bed, yanking on his t-shirt and heading through the house. He ignores Luke and Richard at breakfast, glimpses Graham outside doing morning yoga, and finally finds Cal curled up inside the small bedroom designated as his, knees brought up to his chest.

Cal barely peers up over his knees, staring at Dean with a frightened look. 

Dean’s been a father for years, but the truth is that it genuinely scares him how little he knows about caring for a young boy’s moods. This could be anything, this could be absolutely anything going wrong, and he doesn’t know what it is. It’s _terrifying_. Worse, he doesn’t want to leap in blindly at the risk that it’ll be the wrong assumption.

Delicately, Dean sits at the edge of the bed and reaches out to lightly tug at Cal’s pajama-clad leg. “Hey,” he coaxes. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Cal shrugs, the moody look on his face not dissipating. He turns away, like if he catches Dean looking at him, he’ll break and reveal all – which is a shame, since Dean had been hoping to use that technique. 

“Is it about Aidan?”

Silence, but Cal looks back at Dean. So it is about Aidan, then. 

“About Aidan being in bed with me,” Dean takes the next logical step and asks, thinking that he might not be too off the mark with that. Cal nods grudgingly and Dean sighs, knowing what it is, but not what Cal’s feeling about it just yet. “Okay,” he says, winding his way up to the head of the bed so he can sit beside Cal, side by side. 

The two of them stay silent for a long while, not saying a word.

“We could do this all morning,” Dean says, “But I thought I saw Luke putting together ingredients for pancakes. It’d be a shame to miss that.”

“And you have to work,” Cal reminds him.

Trust his son to bring up the responsibilities that Dean is obligated to uphold. “And I have to work,” he agrees. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement by the door. Aidan’s awoken enough to be lingering outside, but he stays there. Cal doesn’t see him and Aidan stays there, kept at bay so he doesn’t intrude on this. “Are you mad at me?”

“Maybe,” Cal replies, voice small. “Uncle Luke and Uncle Richard...they always said that you still really loved someone. Even when you told me who my Dad was, I kind of thought about it? A little?”

“But...?” Dean coaxes.

“You never really dated anyone else,” Cal admits, tucking his head tighter against his knees. “You’ve always been _my_ Dad, first. And if you love someone else,” he goes on, his voice getting tighter and a hiccup catching his words, “if you love someone else and they stay in your bed and they’re with you, then I won’t have you as much,” he says, the firm facade fading away as the true emotions come pouring out. “I don’t want to lose you!”

“Cal,” Dean says, struck by how worried he is over the whole thing. Without waiting another moment, he wraps his arms around Cal and draws him in tighter. “Cal,” he promises, pressing kisses to his temples. “Even if I were with someone and I’m not, Aidan is just a friend right now, I would never, not ever, put anyone else in front of you. Never,” he swears. “You are my number one priority and I love you more than anyone else in the whole world. I love you more than Star Wars!”

Cal gives a muffled laugh. “You do not,” he grumbles.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Dean swears. “Your uncles may be right in that...I have some lingering feelings for Aidan,” he says, looking up as he says the words so that his gaze meets Aidan’s, the truth being released between them, “but even if he were to be struck by some mad whim, I’d still put you first. So, if you don’t want me to be with someone, you say the word.”

Cal looks marginally more relieved than he had only ten minutes ago and Dean’s ready to breathe out a sigh of relief. True, he’s just handed over control of his romantic relationships to his son, but he has to hope that the boy has good taste – unlike his adoptive father.

“It was just a surprise,” he mumbles. “You can still spend time with Aidan.”

“Are we okay?” Dean asks tentatively. 

“Pancakes might help?” Cal suggests, looking up at Dean with those puppy-dog eyes that could get him anything he wanted – the ones he’s well aware he possesses. He even goes so far as to add a wobble of the lower lip. “Please?”

Dean gives Cal a poke in the shoulder. “Go see Uncle Luke. Tell him I give approval to have chocolate chips in the pancakes,” he says. 

It doesn’t take more than that for Cal to rush out of bed for the kitchen. Dean peers out the door and gets settled, folding his hands in his lap as he stretches his legs out on the bed. Then, he waits. Wherever Aidan had wandered to, he’s back now and peers inside. “Hey,” he greets Dean.

Dean nods his head and offers Aidan a bemused smile. “Hi,” he says. “You have time to talk?”

“Bit of time, yeah,” Aidan says, ducking into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “He okay?”

“Freaked out that someone might take me away from him,” Dean says. “Except that you already know because you were listening.” He studies Aidan, trying to figure out what he wants. There was a time, long ago, when he knew within seconds how to read the man. Now, with all the movies and television series under his belt, Aidan’s become much more of a mystery and has left Dean without a compass to guide him. “I should have told him that this is all temporary, but I want him to get used to the idea that I might meet someone, someday.”

“All these years and nothing?” Aidan asks. 

Dean shrugs, staring down at his folded hands. “I guess I fell in love and made up my mind and my heart followed suit,” he admits quietly. “I know it’s not going to work out. I’m pretty sure the boys dragged me here for closure, but I’m not entirely sure I want it.”

Aidan stares at him with a strange look on his face that Dean doesn’t recognize.

If he had to take a guess, he might think it pity. 

He really wants to hope it isn’t pity.

“I have to get to set,” Aidan says. “Will you do me a favour, though?”

Dean nods, giving Aidan a smile that says he’s willing to push through it. “Anything,” he promises. “Provided it works around my _very_ busy schedule,” he deadpans. “Us location scouts are highly valued and sought after.”

“Oh, I know,” Aidan agrees with a wicked grin. “Meet me on the set tonight after shooting? We can grab coffee or something and really talk things through. Maybe we could talk about me seeing Cal face to face more often? I know it’s a lot to ask,” he says, that uncertain smile on his face fading to be replaced by the charming one. “So, coffee.”

“Make it a drink and you have a deal,” Dean says, aware that whatever pushed him to up the date is a lark that will make him obsess for the rest of the day, but he’s glad for saying it. 

Aidan seems to be glad, too, given the way his smile widens. “I know a place,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, I will,” Dean agrees, each word practically its own sentence. He watches Aidan go – he’s always loved watching Aidan go places, he has an arse matched by none – and takes a few moments to collect himself from the riotous morning he’s already had. There’s more to face, too, given that he’s sure Cal’s already informed his dear uncles about what he found this morning.

Dean sneaks out the side door with the pack of cigarettes he only hauls out in stressful situations and makes sure no one’s watching as he lights up. 

“I thought you quit.”

“Jesus, Graham,” Dean gasps, his heart practically stopping for a moment. “For a big guy, you’re entirely too light on your feet,” he accuses. He doesn’t put out the cigarette, though he does take a more intensive look to make sure Cal’s not looking. “Are you here to give me the talking to?”

“Here to tell you whatever you said to Aidan’s got him glowing like he’s eighteen and in love again,” Graham says. “What _did_ you say to him?”

“We’re meeting tonight for a drink to discuss custody visits.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Graham snorts. “It practically looked like you’d fucked him.”

Dean’s eyes widen and rather than say anything in response (because nothing would be a good enough comeback for the indignation he feels), he takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Aren’t there stunt doubles you need to be torturing right now?” he asks. “People to stab, explosions to concoct, deaths to plan.”

“His, if he hearts you again,” Graham says in that oh-too-serious way that reminds Dean to check for swords under Graham’s bed at some point soon. “I heard there’s chocolate chip pancakes inside? Any reason?”

“Cal realized he might have to share me at some point in his life.”

Graham gives a nod of his head. “And you got away with only chocolate chip pancakes? You’re getting better at saying no to him.”

“It only took seven years,” Dean says wryly. He’s well-aware that he’s too much of a pushover, but there’s a part of him that doubts it would’ve been any better had Aidan stayed with him. Aidan had always been a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes and a beautiful smile and Cal’s got both in spades – he gets it from his father, after all. “I have to head straight to work. Will you give the rest of them my apologies for missing out on the pancakes?”

“Of course, but I’m not responsible for how many betrayed texts Luke sends you through the day,” Graham says, tucking away his yoga mat under his arm. “Dean,” he calls after him. 

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” is all the advice Graham gives. “You might not remember how heartbroken you were the last time, but I do. We all do. Don’t put yourself in that position again unless it’s really, really worth it.”

And there’s the question; how does Dean figure out what he really wants? Does he really want Aidan or is this just some rose-coloured past coming back to infiltrate his present, making him think that just because he never stopped loving Aidan means that he can jump right back into it. Or is this genuine? Is Aidan older and more mature and ready for a family and a life that stretches beyond fucking on anything horizontal?

He goes to work with those questions in mind and he’s not entirely sure how to find the answers.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean doesn’t actually get through with work until long after they’ve wrapped all the sets. He’s running late and he hates running late because there’s a good chance Aidan’s decided not to stick around. By the time he gets there, the whole crew have left for the day, but Aidan’s standing atop the roof of a building. “Hey!” he greets brightly. “Come on up. You’re late,” he says, but it isn’t accusatory. Instead, it holds a boyish exuberance. “Everyone’s gone, so no one’s going to yell at us for drinking on a set.”

“Like old times, is it?” Dean asks, grabbing hold of each of the ladder’s rungs as he propels himself upwards, hauling himself over and onto the rooftop where he sits himself down next to Aidan. “What are we drinking tonight?”

“Prosecco,” Aidan says, lifting the bottle from where he’s icing it. “You like the bubbles, from what I remember.”

“It also gets you drunk faster. That’s why I liked it as a cheap, starving actor,” Dean says, but he takes over a corner of the plaid blanket and shares a grin with Aidan. “I heard Cal followed you around like a duckling today, trying to learn more about you. That’s a good sign that you aren’t public enemy number one after this morning.”

“I let him wear my character’s hat,” Aidan admits. “It’s a bit of bribery, true, but I’m willing to do anything to get him to like me.”

“Why’s that?” Dean asks curiously.

“If I’m planning on wooing his father, I need to be in his good books.”

In the middle of sipping back his prosecco, Dean chokes on the bubbles a little, gaping at Aidan. “Aidan...” He’s tempted to pinch himself. This seems too much like a dream. This is exactly what he’s fallen asleep dreaming of, for years past. “What are you talking about?” he chastises gently, giving Aidan a wary look. “Is this what all this is for?”

“Sort of,” Aidan admits. “I really do want to talk about me getting to see Cal more, I only figured that maybe we could negotiate a way where my seeing him more comes as a direct result of my dating you.”

“We’re not eighteen anymore.”

“Exactly!” Aidan says, seizing that topic like a lifeline. “And that’s why it’s different,” he says vehemently. “I’ve tried dating starlets and I’ve tried other normal people, but none of them made me feel the way you made me feel. I know, back then, that Cal was a dealbreaker...”

“He’s your son,” Dean interrupts heatedly, because no matter his feelings for Aidan, he refuses to let a comment like that slide. “And you weren’t ready to be a father, so you walked out of our lives. Now you want back in? Just like that?” It’s like he’s been possessed by someone else. Dean wants this, wants Aidan, wants them to be a family, but some indignant and angry part of him is arguing because he’s been hurt and he wants to get it out of his system. 

Aidan gives him an apologetic look that makes Dean immediately sorry that he hauled off and accused him like that, but at the same time, he isn’t sorry. Not a word he said wasn’t the truth. 

“Besides,” Dean says, trying to let Aidan down gently. “Once you finish filming, you’ll be back in London.”

“We can do long distance,” Aidan says stubbornly.

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. You and I haven’t even dated in years. We’re different people, you said so yourself,” Dean says. “So, I’ve got a deal.”

“I’m listening.”

“You can charm me and woo me and do everything in your power to win me back. At the end of filming, it’s the end of filming. If you’re going back to London, you’re going back single, no matter how we feel. We might be a disaster and you’ll be grateful for the end of things.”

Aidan’s nodding along, like he likes the sound of things so far. “And what happens if things go well?”

“We’ll talk about it at the end of the shoot, then.” Dean’s pretty sure it won’t come to that. There’s a reason things broke off the first time around and even though they’re older and possibly more mature (he says possibly because it’s not like Luke and Graham have matured for the almost-decade they’ve accumulated), and what’s to say it’ll work this time?

Nothing concrete, that’s what.

And yet, all this doesn’t sound like a no.

It seems like that’s what Aidan has zeroed in on because he’s grinning like an idiot. He looks like Easter’s come around and presented him with every single chocolate he likes. Dean’s so blinded by the force and exuberance of that joy that he’s caught off guard when Aidan leans in and presses something of a victory kiss to his lips, knocking Dean off-kilter.

He balances himself with one hand placed behind him, but Aidan takes the movement as incentive to keep going.

Prosecco is spilling all over their makeshift little blanket and Dean is falling into old habits. It’s like muscle memory kicks in, winding his arm around Aidan’s neck and coaxing him back down to the blanket until they’re making out like teenagers and not the supposedly mature adults they’re supposed to be.

When sense kicks back in, it’s ten minutes later.

Dean sits up, trying to tame his hair and pressing the back of his hand to his flushed cheek. Aidan’s quick to sit up beside him, combing his fingers through Dean’s hair until it somewhat resembles the hairstyle it’d been in. 

“I don’t think I’ve done that since the last time with you,” Aidan confesses.

“Well,” Dean remarks, still a bit tongue-tied. “I’m glad to hear that some traditions remain mine and mine alone.” He gives Aidan a worried look. “Do I look disheveled? Debauched?”

“Slightly,” Aidan concedes apologetically. “Don’t worry. Cal won’t know a thing.”

“Yes,” Dean says wryly, “But Luke will.”

“If it’s only Luke I’m worried about...” Aidan says, his splayed palm on Dean’s chest pushing him back down. Dean’s protests are minor and incredibly unbelievable given the genuine delight inherent in the laughter bubbling past his lips. “How long before they notice you’re gone?” he whispers into Dean’s ear, lips brushing softly over his lobe.

“I’ll make something up. I did used to act, you know.”

“Funny,” Aidan replies. “I did know that.”

* * *

For the next four weeks, Dean feels like he’s a teenager again sneaking around with his boyfriend behind his parents’ backs. Except that in this case, his so-called parents happen to be two terrifying friends, his son, and Luke – who could never actually be that terrifying because he falls apart every time he tries. Dean meets up with Aidan at craft services and they abscond for private picnic lunches by the lake, they drink wine on rooftops, and they reminisce over the good old times.

Conveniently, they neglect to mention all the bad times of the in-between.

Eventually, though, someone had to find out.

Dean’s completely not surprised that it’s Luke who catches them when Dean wanders out from Aidan’s trailer. “I was just...” Dean starts his excuse, his brain going utterly blank when it comes time to actually give a reason for him to be in the trailer and for his lips to look as slick and swollen as they do.

Nothing comes.

Besides, it’s not even like Luke would believe him in the first place.

“I can explain,” Dean gets out, ready to jump into bargaining. “Look, it’s just...”

“Dean,” Luke says gently. “Don’t. You’re an adult now. When you were eighteen and your whole heart was caught up in loving Aidan, you were an idiot. I’m sure you’re still an idiot, but I’m not your father. I’m just your friend. If this is a massive mistake, then I need to let you make it for yourself and then you’ll figure a way to come back for it. The only thing that matters is this: are you telling Cal?”

“Not sure,” Dean admits.

Because even if things are going well, there’s a shelf life on the relationship. As soon as the movie is done filming, Aidan is going to pack up and head back to London and that leaves Cal and Dean where they started – too fucking far away. 

“Dean,” Luke gently warns.

“Look, what are my options? I tell him and it goes well? Aidan’s suddenly a part of the _family_? And if I tell Cal and things go to crap...? No,” Dean says, shaking his head. “I think I’m going to wait this one out. If things work out, then maybe...maybe I’ll consider telling Cal then.”

“You’re making a mistake,” is Luke’s opinion on the subject.

“Yeah, well, if it explodes in my face, at least I’m the only one who will get hurt. Right?” Dean says mildly, glancing over his shoulder to where Aidan has poked his head out from his trailer. “Hi,” he greets him weakly, wondering how much of the conversation he’d heard. “You heading out?”

“I was going to makeup. Thought you might join me. You know how the girls love playing around with your face,” Aidan says and he’s smiling sunnily.

So either he hasn’t heard a thing or he’s putting those acting skills of his to good use.

Dean spares one last considerate look to Luke before nodding and trying to shake the bad feeling lingering over his head like a bad portent. “Yeah, why not? Let them try out their new styles on my face, why not,” he cheerfully replies. He knows very well that he isn’t half the actor that Aidan is, so some of the worry must show on his face.

Aidan, though, doesn’t say a word about it.

And Dean’s not sure how to feel about that.


	6. Chapter 6

epilogue with family dinner.

Dean’s been putting this day off for weeks.

It doesn’t just feel like that, it actually has been weeks of obsessing and worrying and dreading this day. No matter how much he wants to avoid it, the day has come and looms before them like the worst news of his life. Filming is almost over and all the actors are doing their last shots. Aidan’s is three days from now, at which point he’s free to fly back home.

Dean’s not ready.

He thought he’d be ready for this, but the pit in his stomach has been steadily growing and making him feel nauseous with every passing tick of the clock. He’s drawn from his thoughts by a tug on his hand and brought back to reality when he looks down to see Cal looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Dean apologises. “What’re we talking about?”

“I _asked_ if we can go see the special effects department?” Cal huffs out, as if this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened to him in his whole life. “Uncle Luke says they’ve got some shots now that everything’s coming to an end! Come on!” he insists, tugging again and pulling Dean with him, not giving him more than a moment to let those words sink in.

Everything’s coming to an end.

God, how’d his son get to be so clever and cruel all at once?

Well, he supposes, maybe he got that from Aidan’s side. 

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Cal’s massively excited about all the work they’re doing on the special effects and even Dean finds himself transfixed by what the CGI does to Aidan, turning him into a dragonflyer with a dark past. Three days before Aidan wraps and Dean still doesn’t know what to do or even if he’s going to tell Cal. He watches the heroic way in which Cal seems to worship Aidan and knows that he can’t destroy that hope.

If things are going to come to a hard stop, then it’s best not to hurt Cal in the process.

It’s best that he doesn’t know, Dean decides. It might end up hurting him more, it might mean Dean’s a little bit more miserable, but it’ll be worth it to keep Cal from going through that pain.

He feels like he’s lagging the rest of the night. Cal goes off with Richard and Graham for dinner and Dean spends his time poking at noodles because Aidan’s off doing ADR and he’s going to be leaving them.

True, it’s a bit of a leap from realism to the most depressing image of the future, but Dean’s rather good at that.

He’s sitting in the dark when the front door is gently pushed open, creaking as if a relic of an old horror movie. “Hello?” calls Luke. “Anyone home? Am I interrupting someone having sex?” He pauses, listening. “Oh god, it’s worse. Dean, are you in here?”

There’s no escaping it.

“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen.”

Luke wanders in and turns the lights on, setting his shopping bags down and staring at Dean with a disappointed look on his face. “Well, at least you’re wearing pants,” he admits. “I didn’t expect that part. So, what’s the official countdown?”

“Three days.”

“Three whole days, is it?” Luke echoes. “And what disasters can I expect on days two and one, I wonder. No, don’t answer, it’ll only make me incredibly sad.”

Dean manages to flip Luke the bird, but returns to the photos he’s been staring at longingly. He’s absolutely aware that he looks like an idiot (and high on the pathetic scale), but three days is going to come sooner than he wants it to and he needs a plan of attack if he’s going to survive it. At least he hasn’t turned on something maudlin and beyond depressing to listen to on the radio.

“We’re going our separate ways,” Dean says. “And I’ve started to realize there’s absolutely no avoiding it. He’s going back to England and Cal and I go back to Auckland. That’s not long distance. That’s a full world away.”

“You knew that when you got back into this, though,” Luke is compelled to point out (of course he is). “It was part of your bad decision not to tell Cal.”

“And how bad of a decision is it, now?” Dean replies, the anger surging through him and making him spit out the words bitterly. “Things are going to be terrible for me, true, but at least it’ll only be me upset. Cal will get some set souvenirs and it’ll have been the time of his life. He got to spend time with Aidan and he got to see how these things work. It’s only my heart broken, after everything.” Talking about it is only making everything worse and Dean rubs at his eyes, hating the way he feels so exhausted, like his whole body is rebelling and aiming to shut down in the face of such grief.

Luke has never been the most sympathetic of friends, which is why he’d been the perfect one to be at Dean’s side the first time things went so badly. Tough love had raised him out of the depths of depression with ease.

Still, it didn’t make him Dean’s favourite person in the world right now.

“Are you planning to sit here and tell me how much of an idiot I am all night?” Dean asks wearily.

“Actually, I got a bottle of wine. I figured you might be feeling a bit down,” Luke confesses, dragging a chair over to sit with Dean at the table. “Rich and Graham have Cal for the night. If you want? We can get wasted.”

“How do you know me so well?” Dean wonders wryly.

The days continue like this until there’s no avoiding it. Dean can tell that Aidan hasn’t wanted this moment to come either, but neither of them can avoid the fact that Aidan has a plane ticket back home and no plans to come back to New Zealand for a long time, now. The blessed ignorance they’ve been living in has to come to an end, now.

Now it comes down to how it happens.

They’ve agreed to meet up in Aidan’s trailer so there isn’t an audience. Dean doesn’t think he plans to scream or shout or cry, but the truth is that situations like this are unpredictable, especially when you’re watching someone you’ve never stopped loving say goodbye.

“So...” Aidan begins awkwardly.

Dean hates this. He hates this more than he hates the feeling of Cal being disappointed in him and that’s saying something.

“We’re not kids this time,” Dean cuts him off before this can get any worse. “Can we please do this like adults? We didn’t make each other any promises, we knew this was coming. Maybe it wasn’t a part of us that we wanted to acknowledge, but we knew it was the most likely possibility.” He hates the way Aidan seems to be regressing to that young teenager he’d first known, but the hurt on his face is unmistakable. “Things were so good,” Dean exhales, wishing that there was some way to make them go on. “It’s just...you’re going to be at least one ocean away and Cal’s growing up now and needs some stability in his life. Still, I wouldn’t trade a single moment with you. Not one.” 

That seems to soften things. Aidan smiles, now, and closes the distance between them. “You won’t come to London?”

“Our lives are here. My job,” he says, even though there’s a part of him that knows he’s not considering the possibility out of fear. “Friends, family, it’s all here. As much as I wish I could pick up and come to London with you, that’s not something I can do at this point in my life. I’ve got a lot more baggage this time. Figuratively and literally.”

Aidan slides his fingers gently over Dean’s fingers, clasping lightly. “You know the door’s open, though. If ever you decided to come?”

“I know,” Dean gets out, but it feels false. He can’t promise that he’s going to go and he can’t swear to Aidan that he’ll be there as soon as he gets things in order.

Their lives split in a matter of hours, for the second time in his life, and he’s helpless to stop that. 

No, not helpless.

This might not be the choice that makes him happiest, but it’s the choice he has to make. It’s a choice he’s making to support Cal and to make sure he gets the best possible life because that’s what Dean’s sworn to do now. He’s a father and he has to put his son first (Aidan’s son first) and there’s very little guilt about that decision. “You know it goes both ways, right?” Dean offers. “If ever you decided to make LA your home base, Auckland awaits you with open arms.”

Aidan hugs him then, holding so tightly that Dean loses the ability to breathe for a terrifying moment, but then he’s released and Aidan’s picking up his suitcases to head out to his car.

And when he goes, this time, Dean loses his breath again, but it’s only because of the sorrow gripping him tight. No one should have to go through this as much as he has, but he honestly believes what he’d said.

Every moment had been so, so very worth it.

***

“Dad?”

It’s strange to think that only three months ago, they were on a film set and Aidan was back in their lives. Dean’s slipped back into normalcy with stunning aplomb and Cal seems to have followed his example.  
He shakes himself out of his reverie, which these days has been nothing but a string of memories and fantasies involving Aidan. He belongs in a Harlequin writer’s chair at this point because he’s mentally concocted at least five best-seller romantic plots.

“Sorry, Cal, what’s up?”

“Do you think I can call Uncle Graham? I’ll use the calling card,” Cal says, poking around his brussels sprouts with his fork. “I want to see what’s going on with the special effects. I promise I won’t go too long and all my homework’s done.”

Homework, chores, and eating brussels sprouts. It’s frightening how quickly they’ve gone back to the normal routines. Dean waves him off with a smile and permission, trying to take stock of all the things in his life that he cherishes so that he doesn’t spend his every waking moment thinking about a man who’s thousands of miles away.

The doorbell rings in the middle of said thoughts and Dean presses his napkin to his lips, hoping this isn’t Luke showing up again with a condolences card and an offer from a sex therapist to discuss his neglected dick.

He’s not entirely sure that he can afford the therapy for Cal after another conversation like that.

The doorbell goes off again and again, even though Dean’s getting there as quickly as he can. “Hold up, will you?” he complains to himself, pulling open the door. “Luke, I swear to god, this isn’t...”

“Does Luke often bug you? Should I be jealous?”

It’s Aidan.

Aidan Turner is on his doorstep and Dean’s fairly sure this isn’t one of his wild dreams or some romantic fantasy. Just to make sure, he reaches over and pinches Aidan as hard as he can. “Ow, fucker,” Aidan complains. “You’re supposed to pinch yourself when you think you’re dreaming!”

“Had to make sure it was you,” Dean says, feeling a bit numb. “And now that I know it is you, what are you doing here? I don’t...” Even though he’s speaking, he feels a bit speechless, like he can’t exactly account for Aidan’s presence. None of this makes sense. There’s been no phone call to warn him, there’s nothing that could’ve predicted _this_ and yet, here’s Aidan standing in front of him.

“Took me a couple of months to get in contact with everyone I needed to talk to,” Aidan admits, running his fingers through the curls in his hair. “My manager, agents, important people to let them know I was going to be changing address.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s a hell of a flight, but the truth is that when I’m off filming, it’s not like I’m commuting. You not coming to London is a valid reason because you’ve got yours and my son to worry about. My reason to not come here was...” He shrugs, almost wildly. “I was set in my routines? I didn’t like change? Not exactly a very adult reason, not when you consider the relationship I was throwing away just because I liked having a Tesco’s nearby.”

Dean has a faint idea of what’s happening here, but putting it into words is vaguely terrifying.

“Can we go back to the part where you’re here?”

“Scoping out flats,” Aidan supplies the answer before Dean asks the direct question. He fumbles with something in his lapel pocket that Dean now sees is a daffodil, singular, but still fresh and bright. “This is for you. I know flowers and an apology is a bit old-school, but this is a lot of years coming, so I figured maybe old school was what we need here.”

Dean reaches out for the daffodil and twirls the stem in his fingers, staring at it with wonder. “You’re moving here?” he asks, past the shock. 

“Yeah,” Aidan agrees. “There’s something here I need to give a real try, now that I’m a proper adult and I know what I want out of life.”

Dean feels a bit faint and the world doesn’t seem quite right.

“And you’re here.”

“And I’m here,” Aidan agrees. “So, can I come in for dinner?” he asks, that brash and bright smile making Dean’s stomach do horribly loopy things. “I’ve got a lot of ground to make up and I was hoping to start tonight.”

Better late than never, wasn’t it?

Yeah, Dean thinks as he lets Aidan into their place. Definitely better late than never.


End file.
